Category: trees
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Sacrifice
All season long Winter prepares for Spring, pushes stubborn leaves from their perch so new ones have a place to grow. Some fall on grass, some on moss, some on naked ground, and some fall into the fire. They sizzle for a moment before they’re gone. The others will be pushed to the curb for…
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For lack of sunlight
the tree in our yard no longer green rains gold from the sky seesawing back and forth on its way to ground beautiful in the moment it’s not dead only changed awaits transition leaves turn palms up supplicate the wind to carry it away 11-20-25
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haiku prayer
morning sun through trees chases night’s dew from spider webs moisture weeps to ground 9-14-25
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meditation haiku
in dark shadowed woods morning light filters bright green one leaf floats to ground 9-13-25
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Epsom salts
Sitting on the porch scalding my feet in Epsom salts. Rocking back and forth in an old chair. Lamenting the sacrifice of the tree. Wondering what other pieces were torn from its corpse. Does it mourn the loss of siblings living in other homes or that fell off the dock at the furniture store. Sitting…
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haiku of the leaf
caught in the moment between release from the twig and tumbling to ground 8-8-25
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Goose pond
Every year I watch you from across the pond put on a green coat, wave your hands in the sky, stand summer strong in the wind, don yellow and autumn gold, go naked for a winter bath, before you dress for spring, again. Do you watch me come each morning, prayers on finger tips slowly…
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Above the tree line
(“I exist in two places, here and where you are.” Margaret Atwood) I built my cabin in the mountains. Friends bring me provisions. I cook them dinner. We talk until they are bored and descend again among the living. I remain alone to feed above the tree line pulling sustenance from thin air. 4-18-25
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Spring haiku
grooving in sunshine on the ground and in the trees light and shadow dance 4-14-25
My husband's poetry 